The Boy Who Lived
by like a falling star
Summary: Ginny wants Harry to know that she's there for him, no matter what...


Author's Notes: This is my first ever Harry x Ginny fic. I'm more into Ron x Hermione coupling, actually, but I decided that this fic would meld with the whole storyline of the book series. So. *ahem* please review. Thanks.  
  
  
  
The Boy-Who-Lived  
  
By like a falling star  
  
  
  
"I'm not going to the Yule Ball."  
  
There were the assorted sounds of Ron choking on a toenail-flavoured bean, Hermione slamming a rather thick and dusty copy of Hogwarts, a History shut [though why it was dusty, no one knew, since Hermione checked it out of the library every three days or so], Fred dropping a stack of books on George's head [the second one since he found out about Percy and Penelope's little tryst], someone tripping over a knitted maroon sweater [courtesy of Ron Weasley] consequently pitching into another someone, who knocked against a chair, causing a domino effect.  
  
"You what!?!" Ron asked, in a tone of utter disbelief.  
  
"You're crazy." Fred told Harry.  
  
"I'm not going to the Yule Ball." Harry repeated, trying to not look at Ginny. She was the only one so far who hadn't had a visible reaction. "Knight to E4." He added, as if the announcement that he wasn't attending the most important event in Hogwarts [besides the O.W.Ls, according to Hermione] was merely a normal, daily occurrence.  
  
"Why ever not?" Hermione demanded. Ron had asked her to the Yule Ball, something she was absolutely delighted about, and she was determined that this year's Yule Ball be perfect. For everyone. Including Ginny. She cast a furtive glance at the girl, who had a look not of shock, but of quiet contemplation on her face. Harry had not yet asked Ginny to the ball, but there was still the hope that he would. Harry was not going to spoil their evening by not attending. Not unless he had a perfectly good and legitimate reason.  
  
The Wizard's Chess pieces turned to look at Harry, chorusing cheerfully, "Yeah, why ever not?"  
  
Harry glared at the chess pieces. "Shut up, will you?" He turned back to his friends, giving them the lamest and only excuse he could think of. "I. I don't have anyone to go with."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes, not a bit convinced. "Yeah, after turning down five girls you don't have anyone to go with. Good one, Harry. I imagine they'll be pleased when they find out you turned them down to mope the entire night."  
  
Harry smirked at him. "Just like you turned down seven girls so you could ask Hermione to the ball?"  
  
Ron sputtered indignantly, and shut up after that, looking very red indeed.  
  
"You did WHAT, Ronald Weasley?" Hermione demanded rather loudly, but Harry thought she looked rather pleased.  
  
George sniggered.  
  
"Yeah, Harry, you're the Boy-Who-Lived," Fred teased, grinning widely. "Every girl's dying to go out with you."  
  
Harry stood up. He'd had enough of this. "I- I've got to go. Got a detention with Snape." He lied, and left in a hurry.  
  
The others raised their eyebrows at one another, wondering what was going on.  
  
"He can't have detention-Dumbledore has forbidden detentions for the whole week before Christmas!"  
  
In the midst of their indignant exclamations, no one noticed Ginny, who had been sitting amongst them very quietly, slip out of the room after Harry.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
He'd bloody had enough of it. First it had been a bunch of strangers at the Leaky Cauldron, then came Draco and his cronies, then Snape, and now his friends had to go bring it up as well.  
  
So he was the sodding Boy-Who-Lived-so what?  
  
He'd only been a screaming, bawling infant when he'd rendered Voldie [Harry had begun to refer - in his thoughts only, of course - to Voldemort as Voldie; his friends would have a cow had they known about it] powerless, and it wasn't even any of his doing. It wasn't as if he'd known about it then. If anyone should get the credit, it was his mother.  
  
But, no. 'Course not. People gawping at his scar, people speaking in hushed, awed whispers, people pointing at him and singling him out of a crowd, people who asked him out, all because he was the Boy-Who-Lived.  
  
And then there was Ginny.  
  
Ginny Weasley, who, up until a few weeks ago, had merely been Ron's precious baby sister, not to be touched, not to be harmed.  
  
Fred, George and Ron made sure of that.  
  
However, Ginny, of course, was Ginny. She took none of that overprotective business. She was adamant - to the point of being violent, which Harry thought was rather cute - about not letting her brothers rule her life. And what Ginny wanted, Ginny got.  
  
He admired her for it.  
  
A few weeks or so ago, what he felt for Ginny Weasley had escalated beyond friendship into admiration.  
  
They'd been in the greenhouse; he'd been tutoring her on Herbology, when a particularly vicious plant had snapped at his robes, causing him to lose balance and fall, hitting his head in the process.  
  
The bunch of Slytherins at the next table had guffawed loudly and rather cruelly.  
  
Ginny had glared at them. "Harry, are you alright? Should I get Madam Pomfrey?"  
  
"I'm fine." He'd felt more embarrassed than anything else, actually, and had gotten up rather hastily.  
  
"He's the Boy-Who-Lived, of course he's alright." A Slytherin had said rather harshly. "Going to the hospital wing would tarnish his reputation."  
  
To Harry's surprise Ginny had stalked over to the Slytherin, her petite 5 foot nothing frame quaking dangerously, her grey eyes flashing angrily. "Shut it, you! Harry is as much of a person as you are, being the Boy-Who- Lived doesn't make him any less vulnerable to getting hurt! If anything, it makes it worse! Remember that, Slytherin, or I'll." Ginny had let out a stream of curses [the Muggle kind, not the kind that requires a wand] that Harry was sure even Ron would disapprove of.  
  
Then she'd grabbed Harry's hand and stalked out of the greenhouse. The Slytherins, too stunned to say a word, just stared at them in wide-mouthed shock.  
  
Harry had also been extremely shocked. It seemed that she'd just echoed everything he'd been thinking. And she'd looked perfect while doing it too, her milky-white skin was glowing, her silky copper-red hair glinted under the sunlight, and why didn't he ever notice how beautiful she was before?  
  
Ginny Weasley was something, alright.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
Ginny Weasley was something angry, alright. She swore that the moment she was done with this she would go back to the Common Room and hex Fred for all he was worth. "The Boy-Who-Lived, indeed!" she muttered under her breath.  
  
She saw Harry sitting at the edge of the lake, just as she had expected. For a fleeting moment she considered letting him be alone - he looked so wonderful, sitting beside the sparkling water, the setting sun casting a luminous pink-and-gold glow against his silhouette - but decided against it. Harry needed a friend.  
  
"Hello, Harry." She said, sitting down next to him. Lately, she'd changed a lot in her attitude towards him. She no longer blushed and stuttered and put her elbow in the butter dish; now she was able to have conversations with him like a normal person-like a friend.  
  
"Ginny! What are you doing here?" Harry looked shocked.  
  
"What does it look like I'm doing?" She smiled at him. "Not serving detention with Snape, are you?"  
  
"No." Harry shook his head, wondering why this felt oddly comfortable- sitting beside the lake with Ginny, knowing that she knew he'd been lying about having detention. They talked for a bit, about school and teachers and such. "Ginny. d'you. d'you think people really like me?" he blurted.  
  
Ginny looked shocked. "Of course they do, Harry! We're your friends, aren't we?"  
  
Harry looked down. "I mean. It's. the scar. Sometimes I don't know whether people like me or like the idea of knowing me. There's a difference, you know." He added. "D'you think people really like me, or do they just like who I am?  
  
"I mean, I know Ron and Hermione and the bunch of you really are my friends, but you heard what Fred said. Every girl's dying to go out with me because I'm the bloody Boy-Who-Lived." He said it sarcastically.  
  
She looked at him for a moment and paused, speaking tentatively. "I know, there are some girls who like. your scar, but not all of us are like that. I- I mean," she corrected, noticing Harry's widened eyes. "Not all of them are like that." She smiled at him for extra measure.  
  
"D'you reckon I'd ever amount to anything? Anything at all?"  
  
"What d'you mean?"  
  
"I mean." To his surprise, he felt that he could talk to her about anything- anything at all. "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. Everyone expects me to do something great, something wonderful, and I. sometimes I wonder if it'll ever amount to anything. I don't want to let everyone down."  
  
"Oh, Harry!" Ginny leaned over and gave him a quick hug.  
  
Harry's insides gave an involuntary leap. "W-what was that for?"  
  
Ginny just grinned. "You need a friend, Harry." When he didn't answer, she continued. "You're not just the Boy-Who-Lived, you know. You're Harry, Hogwarts' greatest seeker ever, the most brave and loyal friend anyone could ever have."  
  
"C'mere. I want to tell you something." She patted the ground next to her, and Harry scooted closer. "My mum told me the story of the Boy-Who-Lived ever since I was a very little girl. It always fascinated me. To think that a tiny baby, younger than I, could kill a full-grown, powerful dark wizard." Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Ginny shook her head, and continued. "Since I saw you at the King's Cross in your first year, I'd." She stopped short, her cheeks flushing. Then she steeled herself. If embarrassing herself would bring a smile to Harry's face, Ginny would be glad to do it. "I developed a crush on you then. I'd always wanted to meet you, you know, and who'd expect it to be at a train station? Anyway, my. infatuation increased during the summer, when Ron came back and told us of all the adventures you'd been through. And when you stayed with us during the summer, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven."  
  
Harry chuckled at her use of a Muggle expression.  
  
Ginny went on. "In my second year you saved me. After that I got to know the real you. I mean, Harry, the boy. Not Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. You know what I mean, don't you?"  
  
Harry smiled, nodding. She made him smile. The past few weeks of admiration was no more. It had been replaced by something far deeper. Something sacred. Something that Harry was afraid to feel, lest it wasn't genuine.  
  
"And. the thing is. the crush is. the crush is no more."  
  
Harry's smile disappeared, before he forced an over-bright one back onto his face. What was she getting at?  
  
"Don't say anything, alright? I'm not done yet; if you speak now I won't be able to continue." Ginny glanced nervously at him. "It's not a crush anymore, Harry. It isn't. It's rather complicated, and I didn't know if I should say anything, but since I started telling you I'm not going to stop now." Ginny didn't dare look at him anymore. "Harry. I'm now in love with you."  
  
Harry blinked. This was not what he'd been expecting.  
  
Ginny avoided looking at him. "Yes, Harry, the childhood crush is now. something more. I know it doesn't mean anything to you, but I just thought you should know, since, well, since." She was wringing her hands very nervously as she said this.  
  
Harry was very quiet.  
  
"Sorry if I've. invaded in any way. Just pretend like this didn't happen, alright?" Ginny fought her tears as she got up, and made a show of dusting off her robes. Anything to keep her hands occupied. "Anyway, I'll be going now."  
  
She turned to leave, and was startled when she bumped into something hard and warm. She looked up. "Harry!"  
  
He was looking down at her with something very akin to tenderness. "Ginny." He spoke her name in wonderment. He had a very serious look in his eyes. "For the first time in my life, I know exactly what I want, and. I'm not about to let you go."  
  
"Harry. I-I don't understand."  
  
Harry lifted a hand and wiped a tear away with his thumb. "Virginia Weasley. I. I reckon that I love you. Will you be my date to the Yule Ball?"  
  
Ginny drew in a sharp breath and smiled at him, the kind of smile that made his knees go weak and the rest of his body turn to jelly. "I'd be honoured."  
  
  
  
* 


End file.
